The Hill
by yoursordidhome
Summary: "I didn't want for her to have to wait to see how life turns out for us, I wanted her to know. And there was only one way to do that, and I was the only person who could show her." Cam. Oneshot.


_Hi everyone! I'll try to keep this short. Although I have a healthy dose of experience with writing, this is the first piece I've published as fanfiction. It started out as a short story for a creative writing class, but I expanded it just a bit and decided to publish it. Enjoy!_

_Rated M for language. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly, nor do I own its characters or anything related to it or Schneider's Bakery. I do not own Florence + The Machine, nor do I own _"I'm Not Going To Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You" _by The Black Kids._

* * *

"Sam! What are you doing? We can't just leave our own party!"

It was the night after we graduated from Ridgeway, and my dad threw us a huge party. Of course, being my dad, he just bought everything, paid someone to set it up, and left without saying anything other than "Good job, kiddo. I guess you're an adult now." I don't know why I didn't want to leave, my dad obviously didn't care. If he didn't care I didn't have to either.

She whipped around, her stringy blonde hair splaying over her shoulder and across her chest. Keys wrapped in her hand, scratched-up from tearing that boy off of me earlier, she gave me "the look," which meant _please shut up and stop worrying about shit._ "Of course we can, Carls. No one's gonna notice. They're all plastered, in case you missed that." She grinned, and she knew I couldn't say no. I never can with her.

* * *

We climbed into her truck, and I felt like I was home again. Sam got this truck right after she turned sixteen, to her mother's excitement. Pam knew that Sam having the means to leave their apartment would mean that she wouldn't be home, ever, just the way Pam liked things to be. The day Sam bought it, the first thing she did was race to my loft to show me, her pride and happiness making her words meld together. To anyone else, her gigantic 1982 Chevrolet pickup was a tri-toned, rusted piece of shit, but to Sam, this was something she earned all on her own, and that was that. And to us, this truck was a home to our relationship. I'll never say this to her face, but this truck is the only place that I could say I love girls, that Samantha Puckett is the love of my life. The tired engine sputtered and finally released a steady purr, and Sam sped out of the parking garage and onto the streets of downtown Seattle.

She glanced over at me, her blue eyes twinkling with the unknown adventures of the night. "Where ya wanna go, Cupcake?"

She already knew what I was going to say. I don't know why she asked every time, like we didn't do this every Friday night. "The hill? Let's go look at the lights."

"Perfect." She tried to kiss me, but I giggled and shoved her away, said that she needed to focus on the road. She pouted and changed gears, merging between cars on the interstate. I leaned over anyway and kissed her on the cheek, because I can never say no.

Cars fell behind us, and the fluorescent flash of Seattle disappeared, only to reappear later as tiny specks of light. I remember being terrified the first time we did this – those lights are all I've ever known. Calm and dark was unnatural to me, and it was Sam, as always, that pulled me out of my safe world to show me a more beautiful one.

I always called this place "The Hill," but it's hardly that. It's basically just an open field that at one point in time had a gravel road, but now the entire space is just overgrown with grass. It overlooks Seattle and takes way too long to drive to, but that part has never mattered to Sam. On this hill, I couldn't hide from anything, and she knew that.

She grabbed our quilt and a pillow from behind the seat, and so began our routine: she settled against her window with the pillow behind her, I lay on her chest. Some nights we never said anything, we just stared at Seattle spread beneath us like an unraveling blanket and she would hold me close to her, her arm around my shoulder and her lips in my hair. Other nights we put on Florence + The Machine and kiss until we've both lost all feeling. Tonight, though, felt off to me.

"I can't believe it's over. I miss Ridgeway, but I don't. Is that weird?"

I was expecting a chuckle, a kiss, and something along the lines of "You? Weird? I'm the weird one here, baby." But instead, I got silence. Quiet like this doesn't exist between us, and I didn't know why suffocating silence chose to start now.

"What are we gonna do, Cupcake?"

I craned my head back from its spot on her chest to look at her face, to try to feel what she was feeling. Her forehead was scrunched up in a way I'd never seen before, and her eyes were glossy and tinged with red. Where did this Sam come from? Did I do something? Oh, God. I kept swatting her hand away all night, but she said she understood. Best friends aren't supposed to hold each other by the waist where everyone could see. I always told her that we would tell everyone _soon_, that _soon _we wouldn't have to sneak kisses in between classes, that very, very _soon_ we would tell Spencer and Freddie. I wanted her to forget that she was upset, so I started babbling. "What do you mean? Tomorrow? We can go get smoothies if you want, I didn't really have any plans but if -"

"I don't mean tomorrow. Like, three months from now. A year? Five years?"

Of course. Of course I did something. With all the time Sam and I spend alone, I can easily turn off the "Carly and Sam: Lovers" switch and turn on the "Carly and Sam: Best Friends Forever" switch. It was easy for me; I thrived on secrets.

But not Sam. I always knew this moment was coming, but I knew I would never be prepared for when it actually happened.

I took an exaggerated breath and tried to form an answer that would make her my Sam again: happy, carefree, full of corny jokes that always made me laugh. This wasn't how I pictured our night together. My fingers twirled around her hair. "I don't know, but it has to be good, right? We can plan everything out soon enough. Trust me."

"Not everything, Cupcake." She grabbed my hand, and I could feel hers trembling."I know you love me, Carls. You say it every day, in your room. But I kinda get that love isn't gonna make you okay with holding my hand in front of strangers."

My eyes didn't dare move from staring down into the darkness of the passenger's seat. Fuck. I couldn't deny the truth.

"Carly, look at me. No, my eyes. Don't look away, alright? There's nothing wrong with you, I know you're scared. But I want – I _need_ you to know that I want to spend every fucking second of the rest of my life with you. I don't know how long that is, but it doesn't matter because I wanna be there with you. But if you can't do that, if you can't handle that, I'll walk away right now. I swear. I don't want you to be afraid."

Her tears were falling, freely now, the stain they left on her shirt dark as blood, like I had stabbed her. I might as well have. I forgot how to move, how to speak. There was nothing I could say to comfort her, because I _was _scared of her, of us. How could she be so brave? I lay my head back on her chest and tried to pull her closer to me, her ribs protruding and strong. I thought of the first time I realized I loved her, as so much more than my best friend. I thought of the first time she kissed me, her lithe limbs matching up perfectly with mine. I thought of the first time I _really_ touched her in the quiet of my room, her body so thin but so seemingly indestructible, breaking down only for me, just as much then as now. We didn't speak any more, and I willed myself to sleep.

* * *

I woke up to Sam running her fingers lightly through my hair, tucking it behind my ear when she realized I was awake. She smiled at me, and for a second I forgot what happened last night. "Good morning, Cupcake."

"Mornin'," I muttered, ashamed. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, hoping that somehow it would erase how shitty I felt for treating Sam how I did. "We didn't have to sleep here, ya know. You could have woken me up." Here's another thing about Sam: she never wakes me up. The first time that I fell asleep across her lap in my room she told me that she felt like she can protect me from anything while I dreamt. This is why I love Sam, because even after what I said last night, she still wants to be my princess in shining armor. How could she stand to even be within a five-foot radius of me after what I did? If I were her, I'd hate me.

I kind of already do.

She sighed and pulled my body towards her own. "No, Carls. I can hear your head right now. Just forget about it. Forget I said anything. I'm sorry, I didn't wanna ruin your night like that." Her eyes never met mine.

Ruin _my _night? Was she crazy? After I demolished her soul, she apologizes as if it's her fault. What a Sam thing to do. Why can't I give her what she wants when she's given me so much?

I squirmed away from her, and she started the truck. "You slept pretty late. We'll go get smoothies, my treat. And then after that… who knows?"

"But Sam, c'mon, I'm -"

She cut me off. "Carly. Stop. Don't worry about it, really." She unclicked her seatbelt and shifted the truck into park, scooting across the cracked leather towards me. "I shouldn't have made you feel guilty like that. Just take your time, Cup, and I'll be ready for you."

I knew at that moment that I had to face my fear and tell the world. Nothing would ever make it easy, but waiting would be much harder. Sam would rather spare my feelings than watch me tear myself apart over this, and I knew I would never find someone else that would do that for me. How long would I need? Would there ever be a right time to walk down the street holding her hand? For once in my life, I wanted to be brave, like how Sam is brave. She went back to her seat and she drove away from the hill, both of us silently dreading the reality that came along with leaving. _You have everything that makes you happy sitting just two feet away from you. Why won't you do anything?_

We pulled into the parking lot of The Groovy Smoothie, and I didn't feel safe. _You can't live on the hill forever, you know. _I jumped down out of her truck onto the pavement, Sam right behind me. She would always be there. It would always be _her_. I've always known that, though. I waited at our booth as she ordered. _This could be us in three months, one year, five years, _I thought. I didn't want for her to have to wait to see how life turns out for us, I wanted her to know. And there was only one way to do that, and I was the only person who could show her. Sam came back to our table with a Strawberry Splat and a Blueberry Banana Blitz. I unwrapped our straws and she slid in the booth to sit next to me, the movement reminding me of her truck. There were so many things she could've asked or said, but she didn't because people could hear. She just sat quietly, waiting for me to talk. After all that I didn't say on the hill, she still wanted to protect me.

I wasn't gonna let her down, not this time. There was only one person holding me back all these years. "Kiss me."

Sam's mouth slung open. "Here? There's people. Let's wait until -"

"No, Sam. I don't even know what I'm afraid of. But what I do know that you're you, and I'm me, and you are everything that I've been dreaming of ever since I was a little girl. I'm ready." I grabbed her hand from across the table and squeezed. Her eyes were so wide, and I couldn't tell if she was about to laugh or cry.

"Carly? Are you sure? I don't want you to do this just because –"

I squeezed her hand again. "I'm sure, I'm ready. I think I've always been ready, I just needed a push." I smiled at her. She licked her lips.

Her hand that cupped my cheek was clammy from the smoothie. "I love you, Cupcake. As you wish." She tucked my hair and scooted closer to me, her face level with mine. She suddenly moved her mouth to my ear. "_You are the girl that I've been dreaming of ever since I was a little girl…"_ I giggled and pulled her to me and her whole being seemed to relax and soon as our lips touched. I knew the feeling; I felt it every time she was near me. With Sam, my life was complete, every dot connected. Her thumb caressed my cheek and she gently pulled away from me, her smile blooming with the joy that had been missing from her for a while now. She knew that at that moment, I gave her permission to do anything, say anything, in front of whomever she pleased, but she didn't jump up to declare her love for me with T-Bo and God and everyone else around. At that moment, we were Carly and Sam, Cupcake and Puckett, best friends and lovers, princess and princess. Week after week, atop a hill overlooking Seattle, Samantha Puckett saved me, protected me. I was ready to do the same for her.


End file.
